


stroll around the grounds 'till you feel at home

by theviolonist



Category: One Direction (Band), Pop Music RPF
Genre: F/M, Het, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-07
Updated: 2012-09-07
Packaged: 2017-11-13 18:09:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theviolonist/pseuds/theviolonist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katy and Niall fuck after the VMAs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stroll around the grounds 'till you feel at home

He's still high with the elation, happiness sparkling like really good champagne in his veins, his head full of fuzzy thoughts of _holy shit we won 3 VMAs_ and _Katy Perry kissed me_ when he feels a hand on his shoulder. 

He turns around, beaming, expecting Harry or Louis or Zayn or Liam, ready to open his arms and sweep them into a hug because fuck, _fuck_ – but instead it's Katy, looking down at him amused eyes. "Hey," she says. His hands land on her hips because his arms are still outstretched and he doesn't know where to put them, but he removes them as soon as he realizes, red burning on his cheeks. "Congratulations," she says. 

He feels like he's in a daze, heat making the nape of his neck curb. "Yeah," he says. She's so close – was she this close before? "Thanks for the kiss," he says. 

"You're very welcome," she says and winks, a grin curling at the corner of her lip, and then - "I feel like we should celebrate."

Is she saying what he thinks she's saying? Because she's leaning towards him, and she's got this glint in her eye, and really, it looks like - 

She laughs. "Come on," she says, and grabs his hand. 

He doesn't really register where they're going – all he knows is that they walk-run in corridors and absently salute and congratulate people Niall vaguely recognizes until it's just them and _Katy Perry_ is holding his hand and then she's pushing him into a dressing room and kissing him. 

With tongue, this time. 

He's concerned for a quarter of second that he's going to have an heart attack, then remembers thinking before that there are few ways to go better than an orgasm, so fuck it. Sometimes makes its way to his lust-crazed brain, however, and he pushes Katy away. 

"Wait," he says, and his mouth feels weird, cottony and very much like it wants to kiss Katy again, "wait." He gathers his thoughts. "Rihanna – you – she told me – isn't that a problem?"

Katy laughs, drawing him closer. "Don't worry, honey," she says, the way she would say _it's a grown-up thing_ , and it shouldn't be this hot but it really kind of is. "We talked about this. She's okay with it. I'm sure she can grab Harry if she's feeling lonely."

The confirmation of whatever-it-is between Katy and Rihanna sends a sharp jab of heat in Niall's stomach, and he grins stupidly, curling a hand around her hip. Right. _Right_. Well then. 

She follows when he backs her up against the door, hooking her arms around his neck. She chuckles when he kisses her neck, but it turns to moans soon enough, the sounds landing directly in Niall's ear. He likes how loud she is, her moans kittenish and a little ridiculous but also fucking hot. She snakes a hand between their bodies and presses the heel of her hand to his erection through his trousers. Niall bites his lip. 

"Fuck", he hisses, and she laughs, hooking two fingers under his chin to lift it. She kisses him, bites down on his bottom lip and licks it to soothe the sting. He always thought things like that were only hot in movies. 

She pushes him away and he wants to whine but doesn't, because it's Katy Perry and he's so strung up he's pretty sure he's physically incapable of doing anything but stare at her as she turns around, pressing her hands against the plastic door. 

Her pale hands come up to move her hair onto her shoulder, baring the nape of her neck. She turns her head towards him, low lashes, hooded eyes. She smiles, "Unzip me?"

He's got to swallow nervously at this point, and his hands shake a little as he smoothes them down Katy's back, fingers espousing her curves. 

"Be careful," she says, and he can feel amusement in his voice underneath the arousal, "it's designer."

He nods wordlessly. It's not the same dress she was wearing when she gave him the award, he notices dazedly – this one's shorter and sort of nicer (for all that Niall can judge women's fashion, because to be honest, he doesn't understand most of it) hugging her body like a second skin. 

"Fuck," he says when the zipper is all the way down and she shrugs it off, letting it fall at her feet. She's theatrical and he likes that, the way she doesn't turn at first, lets his eyes sweep over her and his hands follow. Fuck, Louis's got nothing on her ass. 

She steps out of the dress, still wearing her pumps, and he backs her into the door once against, kissing her with everything he has. He's so hard he feels on the verge of exploding, and Katy is, too, if the way she melts into it every time he touches her is any indication. 

"Come on," she says, and he snakes a hand between her back and the door. He thanks the sky for small mercies when he succeeds in getting her bra off after one try despite doing it with only one hand. That's serious cool points right there. Also, bragging right. He's never going to shut up about it as soon as he's with the boys again. 

He's got more interesting things to focus on, though, namely Katy's breasts, which are – wow. 'Wow' is actually the only appropriate word there – besides, it's not like Niall has an opportunity to say anything else, because Katy pushes his mouth down on them and Niall gets to work because you don't say no when Katy Perry asks you to suck on her tits. He's pretty sure it's like, a law of the universe. 

Katy heaves a little sigh when Niall does, swirling his tongue over her hardened nipple. He's not going to lie, it's pretty exhilarating. Her fingers twine in his hair and he feels goosepumps pricke on his skin when she tugs on it, the sting rushing pleasantly down to his neck. 

He blows on her breasts teasingly, brushing a thumb across the underside, and she curses, drawing him up again. "Fucker," she says between her teeth. She strops to consider him for a moment, ducks her head when he leans in to kiss her again and smiles: "You're overdressed, doll", she says. 

Suddenly her hands are everywhere – Niall's cardigan and shirt are on the floor so fast that he has trouble comprehending how it even ended there and Katy's hands are on his zipper, dragging his down tantalizingly. 

Niall tips his head onto Katy's shoulder, panting. She laughs, shoving his pants down and fastening her hand around Niall's leaking cock. Her hand is clammy with sweat but the slide of her palm around the sensitive skin is still overwhelming and on the right side of chafing. Niall makes a keening noise.

She jerks him off two or three times before he mans up and hooks his thumbs in the fabric of her knickers. He can feel the heat rolling off her in waves, and she gasps when he slides a finger against her clit, dragging through the warm wetness. Niall smiles in her shoulder. 

They both stop for a second, fumbling to kiss and laughing in each other's mouth, the last of her lipstick smearing on his cheek when they miss. 

He drags a finger along her thigh and up to her pussy, and she keens in his mouth. God, she's hot. Her breasts are pressing against his chest, their nipples sometimes rubbing together, and Niall is so hypersensitive it feels a little like dying. He was right, fuck. Definitely the best way to go. 

"Now," she whispers in his ear as he fingers her, her hands still jerking him off even though it's a little uncomfortable and uncoordinated. "Come on," she says. "Fuck me."

He crouches to grab a condom in the backpocket of his trousers – what, so he always carries a condom with him. He's a teenager, okay? And Justin's here tonight and you never know what can happen – it's not like Niall's going to deny him revenge sex –; Katy whines at the loss of sensation and laughs at him a little. He wrinkles his nose up at her but it only makes her laugh harder. 

She rolls the condom on him and it makes him pant harder, eyes screwed shut when she repeats, her voice low and hoarse in his ear, "Fuck me."

It's not like he's going to say no, so he hoists her up on his hips – all these hours at the gym with Liam are finally paying off – and fucks into her in one smooth slide. They both sigh, kissing again, this time more for the gesture than anything else. She raises an eyebrow at him when he doesn't move, tugs sharply on the hair at his nape. "Well?" she asks impatiently. 

He huffs out a laugh but obeys because fuck, it's not like he doesn't want it too. She says "harder" and he doesn't hold himself back, slamming into her and even risking snaking a hand back down to her pussy, fingers dragging against her clit. She half-laughs, half-moans at him holding her up with only one hand splayed on the underside of her thigh and anchors her heels in the back of his legs, heels lying forgotten behind them. 

He can feel that she's on the edge and he looks up to watch her coming, her eyes shut and her hair plastered to her sweaty forehead. She looks fucking beautiful, long white neck arched and marked red where people will probably be able to see. Niall wonders distantly if they'll think about him or assume they all come from Rihanna. 

The thought makes him speed up and he's almost there when Katy leans into him and sing-songs quietly in his ear: 

"And here's to you, Mrs Robinson," and that does it, he's coming too, hips slotting into her and a groan leaking out of his throat. She carries him through it, raking her long nail against her back and pressing his face into her breasts. She's still taller than him, even with the heels off, and when he lets her slide down the door and back on her feet, she's almost a head taller than him, his nose tucked in the crook of her neck. 

"Well," she says as he slides out of her and tosses the used condom in a bin in the corner of the room. Her voice is still hoarse, she clears her throat. "Well," she repeats, and when he looks up at her she's smiling, rearraging her hair. "That was fun."

She leans down the door, looking so comfortable in her nakedness that he doesn't even pull his pants back on, as he would do with anyone else. "Yeah," he says. 

She laughs to herself. "Ri is never going to believe me," she says. 

Niall shuffles on his feet. Making Rihanna's girlfriend cheat on her is definitely not something he wants in his life achievement, fucking hot though it was to sleep with Katy. "Is it...?" he trails off. 

Katy must see his discomfort, because she laughs again and waves his concerns off. "Oh, no, you're on my list."

Niall prefers not to ask. He's not sure he wants to know who else is on this list. 

They talk for a few more minutes, and he watches her smoke as he dresses. He regrets that having pictures on his phone is so dangerous, because naked Katy Perry smoking after sex is definitely something he'd like to have on his wank folder, and also she's pretty fucking beautiful like that, her hair falling on her shoulder and her elbows tucked against her ribs, her whole posture oozing ease and a subtle kind of power. Her and Rihanna definitely make a hit couple. 

They both have things to do, people to see and networks to thank, though, and in his case bandmates to hug until they choke, so she dresses back up and he watches her, chattering away. 

She adjusts her breasts in her dress and smiles at him. "I feel like a proper cougar now," she says. 

They laugh. When they come out the dressing room she presses a light kiss to his lips. "Thanks," she says, and he returns it with almost embarrasing earnestness. 

She kisses him again, "just because". "Gotta fix my make-up," she says, and points to behind her: "There's a bathroom this way. You go ahead."

Liam and Zayn are waiting for him when he comes back out. They don't ask anything but Zayn winks exaggerately at him and Liam seems like he's hesitating between smiling and looking disapproving. The smile wins, of course. 

They wait for Louis and Harry to come back, looking just as rumpled as Niall. Liam huffs at them all and fusses over them like a mother hen, trying to fix their outfits. 

"We'll blame it on the excitement," he says when he deems them more or less appropriate to make their exit, and they all link arms. 

It's as overwhelming as ever, especially now that they've von three VMAs and broken all kinds of records, and Niall soon loses himself in the flashes and questions, hanging tight to his bandmates, best friends, brothers, lovers – everything you want to call them. 

He catches Katy's eye through the crowd, though, a discreet scarf twinned around her neck and her arm delicately linked with Rihanna's. She winks at him. He winks back. 

_Best night ever_ , he thinks, and dives back in, the reassuring press of his bandmates' hands on his back steady like an anchor, like a lifeline.


End file.
